


Us and Them

by SecondStarOnTheLeft



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Pre-Series, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 07:51:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1143430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecondStarOnTheLeft/pseuds/SecondStarOnTheLeft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Siblings, and all that passes between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The sweetest stories (Malora, Baelor, Lynesse)

Lynnie had two papas, although she never said that aloud.

Papa - real papa, her Lord Father who was Lord Hightower, the Voice of Oldtown - was loud and booming and only came to her occasionally. She was his youngest daughter, near his youngest child, and she supposed that as his sixth daughter and ninth child overall she was worthy of only a little concern. Such was the way of things, she knew, because Septa said so and Papa had said that she was always to listen to Septa.

Lynnie's other papa wasn't her papa at all, but her big brother - her  _biggest_ brother, Baelor Brightsmile who always smiled the brightest for her.

 

* * *

 

"Tell me a  _story,_ Baelor!" Lynesse chirped, tugging on his hair. "Please please  _please?"_

Baelor could feel Malora grinning at him - he knew she thought he indulged Lynesse's whims too much, and mayhaps she had the right of it - but ignored her, instead squeezing Lynesse's ankles and pulling her more securely over his shoulders.

"Which one would you like today, sweetling?" he asked. "Florian and Jonquil? Aemon and Naerys?"

"I  _know_ those," Lynesse sighed, flopping forward over his head dramatically - not six years yet, and already she was every inch their father's daughter when it came to histronics and overreactions - while Malora laughed. "Tell me a new one, Baelor, you must know all  _sorts_ of wonderful stories!"

"Now Lynesse," Malora scolded teasingly, reaching up and taking her from Baelor. "You know that Baelor has only a very  _limited_ number of stories, little one."

" _Alerie_ always has new stories," Lynesse announced triumphantly. "And I heard Baelor say that he was cleverer than Alerie, so he  _must_ have new stories."

"What sort of story do you want, sweetling?" Baelor cut in before Malora could, feeling harrassed. It always ended like this, when Malora joined him and Lynesse on their walks. "One with a princess and a knight?"

"Oh,  _yes_!" she crowed in delight, clapping her hands and leaning close to him from Malora's hold. "Oh,  _please,_ Baelor, please do tell me one!" _  
_

"What of a lady and a knight?" Malora asked softly, grinning over Lynesse's head to Baelor. "A knight of the Hightower, son and heir to the Old Man, and his lady love."

Lynesse's eyes were round as saucers, and Malora's creased with amusement.

" _Baelor_ has a lady?" Lynesse gasped, astonished. "You shan't leave as Alerie did, will you, Baelor?"

"Never, little lady," he promised. "And I don't have a lady-"

"He has been paying court to a lady for some time now," Malora informed Lynesse gleefully. "He has even asked Papa if he might ask  _her_ papa for her hand."

" _Malora!"_

"Oh, Baelor!" Lynesse said, practically swooning at the thought. "Oh, do say Papa said yes! Have you asked for your lady's hand yet? Might I come with you when you do? Who  _is_ your lady?"

He frowned at Malora then, taking Lynesse back from her and balancing her on his hip.

"She is not  _my_ lady, Lynnie," he sighed, "but the lady Malora  _thinks_ is mine is called Rhonda. Now come away, little sister, it is time for your lessons."

 

* * *

 

Lynnie never wished more that Baelor truly  _had_ been her papa than on the day she and Jorah fled Bear Island, because he would never have allowed her to wed a near-impoverished lord of nothing on a whim as Papa had.

 


	2. The sweetness of lost things (Arya, Sansa)

It’s quiet in the godswood, and here, before the heart tree, it is almost as though nothing at all has changed. 

Arya agrees, Sansa knows, which is why they find themselves so often sitting together where once their lord father sat, Sansa sewing and Arya reading where once he polished his greatsword. 

Things are greatly changed, of course. Sansa wears a ring that ties her to the south, Arya a sword on her hip, and there are more secrets and losses between them than they dare to count. 

Things are still in the godswood, though. Time is still, and so they often sit there, in the peace and the gentle happiness of memory that eases the fear from their shoulders and the worry from their brows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Possibly tied to Rough Winds Do Shake, but I'm not quite sure.


	3. The particular beauty of movement (Lucy, Susan)

Lucy has always been the more cheerful of them, ready with a laugh and a smile and a warm word for everyone. Susan has always had a more serious disposition, had always been more demure and reserved.

But Lu always says that you’d never think that, not if you’d seen Su dance.

Susan on a dancefloor is, Lucy thinks, most of why every man in every realm across the whole land wants to marry her. Susan is always beautiful - sometimes, Lucy is jealous, but she knows that she is well loved whether or which, and so she is never jealous for long - but her quiet little smiles and her calm and dignity are nothing at all compared to how lovely she is when she’s dancing. 

She dances most often with Ed - they’ve always been close, and they look so lovely together, too, tall and slim and dark, and while Ed is as sombre as ever unless with his sweetheart, Su, oh, Su smiles and laughs and sings along, and Lucy wishes her sister could be that happy all of the time, wishes that there wasn’t such pressure for Su to choose a husband so she could be free to enjoy Narnia, just for a little while.


End file.
